


The Outsider

by all_we_see_is_sky



Series: One Shot Music Shuffle [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Marina and the Diamonds, Panic Attacks, Peter breaks his wrist, Peter is Angsty, Protective Tony Stark, Songfic, Tony Stark Has A Heart, broken wrist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 03:12:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15832587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_we_see_is_sky/pseuds/all_we_see_is_sky
Summary: Peter Parker is the outsider. He never really fit in anywhere, he thought that Spider-Man could.His heart breaks when he realises that Spider-Man is just as much of a loser as Peter Parker.Enter Dad Tony Stark to patch him up and put him back together.(A one shot based off The Outsider by Marina and the Diamonds)





	The Outsider

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a thing on tumblr where someone had shuffled their playlist and randomly assigned the first song that came up to a pairing. I tried it and it has so much more angst than I ever could have imagined I apologise sincerely but, enjoy.

Peter never really fit in anywhere, no matter how much he hated admitting that. It made him sound angsty, it made him sound like every other generic teen who had never really ‘fit in’ before but he knew when push came to shove, it was the truth. Most of his life was spent alone, or with his only friend Ned. Peter loved Ned, of course he did, they had been best friends since preschool but that didn’t mean that Peter couldn’t crave something else, crave a little bit more. 

Selfish. He felt selfish to even think like that, Ned didn’t. Ned didn’t need new people, he didn’t need to feel as though he belonged, so why did Peter? Most days he could ignore Flash, ignore the dull ache in his stomach and chest that told him he wasn’t quite good enough, but sometimes it was impossible. Sometimes he felt simultaneously stuck on the outside, alone, whilst being trapped within himself, as though no matter where he turned he ran into a dead end every single time. On those days, Peter would tell May he wasn’t feeling well and would crawl under the covers whilst his ears rang and his eyes burnt and the overwhelming smell of Queens from his open window was enough to make him gag slightly. On those days, Peter allowed himself to wallow before having to pick himself up the next day. 

The simple task of ‘picking himself up’ was proving to be more than difficult when he woke up the next morning, his eyes blurred around the edges slightly and his stomach was still more than ready to empty despite the lack of food or even water inside of it. He couldn’t stay in bed. He knew that, he knew he had to face another day at school and he had to patrol, Queens had come to depend on him and Peter wouldn’t let them down. With a slight whimper and a groan, the fifteen year old stumbled into the bathroom to begin getting dressed and was rather proud when he arrived at school only five minutes late, his head pulsing even worse than it had been that morning. Great.

By the end of the day, Peter had managed to throw up only twice but blocking out Ned’s consistent chatter had been proving almost impossible. ‘Not tonight’, ‘later’ and ‘I have a headache’ had all fallen onto deaf ears. When the bell signalled that the final lesson had finished, Peter was all but sprinting out of the school, weaving and twisting among the students. Even whilst sick, he was still as agile as ever. 

Once suited, his backpack webbed behind a dumpster, Peter swung himself up onto the roof of a nearby restaurant, scanning the town quickly. “Karen, what’s on the agenda for tonight?” Peter asked, walking carefully along the slats as he waited for the AI to answer. When her reply came, it was far too loud and abrupt and Peter winced, clasping his hands over his ears, which in hindsight was stupid considering the AI voice came from within the suit. “Jesus, alright Karen. Lower your voice,” Peter hissed, receiving a rather guilty ‘sorry’ in return. 

After two hours of swinging, looping and being the Spider-Man that everybody expected, it all came to a sudden halt. Peter had been making his way towards a petty robbery, someone stealing a bike, then everything became too much. His senses had been heightened, most likely a cause of his recent distress and upset, but this was like nothing he had ever experienced. Without warning, without wanting to, the teenager could suddenly hear every voice within a mile radius as though they were stood right next to him, could smell every single type of dish that was being made in the restaurant beside him and everything they had thrown out over the course of the past week. Adjusting so quickly, even for someone with the powers that he had, was borderline impossible and before Peter could think to open his eyes, to stop trying to block it out, his entire body slammed against a brick wall, his webbing snapping as he tumbled to the ground. “Fuck,” Peter seethed, a sickening crunch sounding as he landed awkwardly on his wrist, a whimper automatically escaping. “Karen?” He whined, the bot spoke instantly knowing what he was requesting. 

“You seem to have broken your wrist,” Karen informed, making Peter huff out a quiet ‘great’ as he rolled onto his back. “Calling Mr. Stark,” that got Peter up. 

“What!? No! No Karen, cancel. Don’t- you don’t need to-“ a beep interrupted him as he sat against the wall, tugging the mask off his head once he was sure that nobody could see him. It wasn’t helping with the too loud noises, or the too pungent smells, or the too bright colours anyway. 

“Kid? What the hell just happened? It was like you just- stopped looking where you were going,” Tony accused and Peter bit back the ‘because I did’ as he struggled for a response. “Wait there. I’m coming to get you. I’ll have Bruce look at your wrist, we can’t have it healing incorrectly,” going to speak, Peter opened his mouth but again was interrupted by yet another beep, this one signalling that the call had finished. Peter sniffled slightly as he rubbed his nose against the back of his hand, tugging the mask back on with a hiss of pain since quite frankly, he didn’t want his mentor to see him so upset. 

It wasn’t necessarily just his wrist, although that hurt like a bitch. He thought patrolling would make everything fine. Inside school, with his Aunt May, with his life in general as Peter Parker, he felt misplaced. He felt like a nobody, like an outsider. Despite the love that he and his aunt May shared for one another, Peter was often found blaming himself for Uncle Ben’s death, his Aunt May didn’t sign up for this. Life as Spider-man was supposed to be different. Enthralling. Fun. It was supposed to offer the kind of redemption that his normal life didn’t. That was why it was so frustrating, so upsetting, to feel so hollow and alone within the suit for the first time. The kid didn’t get much time to drown in self pity before Iron Man himself appeared and offered a hand to Peter. “Thanks,” he murmured, allowing himself to be pulled up and lifted under the arms before they were making their way towards the Stark Tower. 

After everything, it had taken a while to settle down. Everyone was riled up over Germany for quite a few months but after seeing sense, Captain America and his team returned and were now living with Tony again in Stark Towers. At least, that was what Peter had last heard. Not a word was spoken during their flight back to the man’s home and Peter was finding it harder and harder not to cry. He felt like a disappointment. Spider-Man is supposed to know what he’s doing. He’s supposed to wind between buildings and stop bad people. What he was not supposed to do was slam himself into the sides of buildings because everything was too much all at once. Tony placed him down as gently as possible and instructed the kid to follow him with a wave of his hand as the suit disassembled around him. 

Peter had met Banner before and allowed the man to check out his wrist with little fuss. The doctor stated that it was healing straight and would be fine within a few days, making Peter nod slightly. “You wasted your time,” Peter mumbled once they had left the medical floor, the mask limp in Peter’s not broken hand. Tony furrowed his eyebrows at Peter. 

“No, no I didn’t. Now we’re both at ease knowing your wrist will heal fine. If we hadn’t gotten it checked out, it could’ve lead to something worse so I didn’t waste anybody’s time, kid,” Tony’s voice was hard and unrelenting so Peter just nodded, not sure he believed Tony completely. Surely the man had better things to do than picking up fifteen year old kids that don’t know how to look after themselves properly. “Anyway, I think it’s about time you met a few people,” the older man smirked and the teen didn’t get much of a chance to question before the elevator pinged and opened to a room that had people scattered all around it. Not just people. Avengers. “Or at least, met them properly,” Tony continued, walking Peter into the room and introducing him as ‘Peter Parker’ rather than Spider-Man. He smiled weakly. God, what was wrong with him? Any other day, he would’ve been bouncing with glee, poking fun at the fact he stole Captain America’s shield, gushing over Natasha and her fighting skills, going rampant about Clint and how accurate he was with every shot. Instead, he stood stock still, only being able to give them a small wave. 

It was just, everything was still so loud. The tv boomed directly into his left ear and Peter was sure he could feel the vibrations against his cranium. Meeting the Avengers was all good and well but what Peter would’ve done for that moment in time to just be back at home, back in Queens, back in his bed. It wasn’t as though meeting the team wasn’t a pleasure, of course it was. He was meeting his childhood heroes, the people he had idolised for years on end. This was his chance to discuss things with them, to talk to them as though he was a friend, not just a fan. So why were they all looking at him like that? Why were they looking at him as though he would break apart and crumble away at any second? Peter scoffed quietly. Because he wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t an Avenger. He didn’t have the skill to be one of them. It had been naive of him to think he had a place here, among these adults who all looked as though they could snap him in two. Spider-Man. The part of Peter that felt included, felt happy, was slowly slipping from his grasp too and it felt inevitable. Peter Parker was an outsider, Peter Parker was Spider-Man. Spider-Man was nothing but a loser too. “Actually,” he cleared his throat when it cracked, his cheeks flaming. “I have to-I have to go. I have somewhere to be actually, things to do, people to see, you know the whole drill, I’ll see you around!” Peter called before turning on his heel and sprinting down the stairs, the elevator took too long. He heard the calls for him. He heard them far too loud. They didn’t stop him though and Peter’s feet didn’t stop moving until they hit the bottom step of the Tower, his breathing sharp and heavy. That in itself was confusing, Peter never got out of breath. He was made of endurance and stamina, he could swing from his webs for hours on end so why had a couple of stairs gotten him so beaten up? This wasn’t breathlessness though, and he couldn’t fool himself for long. 

Glad the tower was empty at this time of the night, F.R.I.D.A.Y running the place, Peter hit the spider on his chest sharply, his suit feeling too tight all of a sudden as he slumped against a wall, clawing at his chest. Stupid. It was so stupid of him to ever think he would belong anywhere. Of course he didn’t. Peter Parker didn’t belong anywhere, so Spider-Man didn’t either. Spider-Man wasn’t a different person. He was just Peter with a mask. He clenched his jaw, squeezed his eyes shut as he tucked his head between his knees. He hadn’t had a panic attack since Uncle Ben. Couldn’t believe something as trivial as this had brought one on. What would Mr. Stark say now?

Peter only opened his eyes when he heard a voice calling for him, soft and gentle the way that his Aunt May would speak after another one of his nightmares. The cars outside, the hustle of New York was still a primary focus but he could hear the soft spoken words of ‘you’re alright’ and ‘come on, kid, stop crying’. Crying? Peter wiped his hand along his face for the second time that night, surprised to find a trail of wet along the back of it. The owner of the voice had sat down beside him and had pulled him close, Peter’s head now resting on their chest. 

Ten, maybe fifteen minutes later, Peter realised Mr. Stark had been holding him this entire time, whispering quiet words of serenity with a careful peacefulness to them. “I’m sorry,” blurted from Peter’s mouth before he could stop himself and Tony shook his head, a hand in the mess of brown atop of the kid’s head. After a bit of coaxing, Tony helped Peter stand and they made their way up to Tony’s suite where the man was swiftly returning them back to their huddled up position, only this time on a couch. 

“So, do you want to tell me what the hell just happened?” Mr. Stark requested. His voice wasn’t sharp and demanding, more worried, genuinely curious as to why the Spider-Boy had a panic attack in the lobby of his building. Peter shook his head. Mr. Stark spoke up again, ‘please?’ he added and the teen chortled slightly. He hadn’t ever heard his mentor say please before, but then again, tonight seemed to be a night of many firsts. 

It didn’t take much more persuasion before Peter was crying again to the superhero, explaining how useless he felt, explaining that he was a burden no matter where he went, even if he tried to help all those people as Spider-Man, no good ever came of any of it. That everything was against him. He was the outsider. Tony listened patiently, wiping away the tears from under the boy’s eyes, his heart breaking as he watched the kid who had slowly began weaselling his way into Tony’s life fall apart. It was an awful sight. A kid who was so upbeat, so happy, carefree and boisterous being reduced to nothing more than a puddle of tears. “And everything is too loud,” Peter added with a sniffle at the end, staring down at his lap. That wouldn’t do. Tony grasped Peter’s thumb between his thumb and pointer finger, raising the boy’s head so they could make eye contact. 

“You are not alone, kid. You’re not. Sure, you feel that way, hell we all feel that way sometimes but you’re not alone at all. Outside of Spider-Man, you have so much to live for. Your best friend, what’s his name, Fred?”

“Ned,” the correction was quiet, barely there. 

“Ned adores you, and not just because he gets to be your guy in the chair. He was best friends with you well before this whole spider thing happened. And your Aunt May? Kid, I’ve never seen someone so infatuated with a child before,” apart from himself maybe. “She loves you. She’ll do anything for you and she’d hate to know that you’re feeling like this. And listen, Pete, you’re not ready to join the Avengers yet, but when you are, we’re all going to welcome you with open arms. Maybe you’re not going to be able to lift Thor’s hammer, or take out three dudes with one punch, you won’t be able to fly above enemies and wipe them out with rocket launchers but you can do so much that we can’t do. Could you imagine Sam crawling across the ceiling?” Tony asked, earning a puff of breath from the nose which only managed to make Tony grin as he swiped his thumb under Peter’s eyes again. “You belong here,” he whispered quietly, allowing Peter to curl back up against him as he draped a blanket over the teenager’s shoulder. 

Peter Parker belonged right here.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this one shot between the hours of 7am and 9am with no sleep at all. I apologise again for any grammar mistakes, spelling mistakes, punctuation mistakes etc. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!! 
> 
> Have a nice day!!!


End file.
